Herobrine Rising II: Blood Ties
by WH1T3R4V3N
Summary: He had died. Finally, Herobrine had been eradicated off the face of the Earth, and his reign of terror had come to an end. Only a few had survived, plagued with awful memories and ashamed at what they had been forced to do. Steve. Nathan. Echo. They had lived, and Herobrine had died. Or so they thought. Sequel to "Herobrine Rising".
1. Echo's Regrets

**IT'S HERE! I'M SO EXCITED! YAAAAAY!**

**Anyway, enough of that. For any of you folks that don't know, this is a sequel to the first story I wrote on here, "Herobrine Rising". If you haven't read it, I suggest you do before reading this one, or you'll be hella confused!**

**I know I've been torturing you guys with that cliffhanger, but it'll all be resolved soon, I promise! *Crosses fingers behind back***

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**Echo's Regrets**

* * *

"There is nothing to be ashamed of. You did the right thing." Steve had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. He had never been good at reassurances, never been the type to instinctively comfort people in times of grief, but here he was desperately trying to sympathise with a woman who had just lost the one man most dear to her.

There was nothing they could do for Daxx, or Sky. There were too far gone by the time help had reached them; there had been nothing left but empty shells crumpled on the blood-soaked ground. Echo had lived, albeit with a broken arm, but she had ran.

_I am… a coward._

She had ran. She had lived. And she hadn't had the chance to say goodbye.

_I should have just died that day._

Echo knew that her cowardly actions would haunt her for the rest of her life. However hard Steve or the others tried to reassure her that she'd done the right thing, however hard she tried to convince herself of their reasons, one simple, agonising fact remained. She had ran.

Large, silent tears began to slide down Echo's chin, glistening in the pale glow of the setting sun. The fading light cast long shadows over the small row of fresh tombstones in the weather-beaten courtyard, stark reminders of the massacre that had taken place in the once-peaceful village. All of this. All of this destruction because of one wronged man's need for revenge. And to think, she'd actually quite liked Herobrine before the events of the past couple of weeks. He'd never noticed, too infatuated by that pretty little girl Misa, but she'd liked him nonetheless. He was, in his own way, strong.

_Well now he is dead._

"We can't keep dwelling on the past, Echo. I know how much Daxx meant to you, but… we have to move on." Steve was still trying to make her feel better, bless him. Even after all he had been through, after all he had endured, he still put the wellbeing of others before himself.

"I know, it's just so unfair!" She brushed the long hair out of her eyes and gazed up at him properly for the first time. What she saw in those cerulean eyes…

Sadness.

Pain.

Regret.

What she saw in those eyes startled her. Somehow, deep down, Echo knew that Steve had braved more in the past week than she had in her whole life.

"What gave him the right to put all of us through this? I understand that he was hurting, but that gives him no reason to… to…"

"Hey, It's OK," Timidly, Steve took her hand. There was no higher meaning to the gesture, it was simply a comfort thing.

"But what if he didn't even kill her? Misa, I mean. Sure, there was blood around his mouth, but Misa died from an explosion, not from infection."

Obviously, this was a new idea for Steve. He spent some time mulling it over, biting his bottom lip in thought. The man didn't even notice when Nathan approached the graveyard, a raw scar still visible on the side of his face. The warrior's entrance signalled an end to all conversation; Nathan had recently become cynical and withdrawn, rejecting any ideas of Herobrine's innocence. He no longer smiled, Steve noted, and when he spoke his tone was short and clipped, devoid of any emotion. Zak's murder had cut him deeply, perhaps irreversibly, and Steve felt powerless to help.

"Nathan, what's up?" He received no reply - his friend didn't even look at him any more. So much for giving Nathan time to get over it. He hadn't changed a bit.

"You can't keep on grieving for ever, Nathan. You too, Echo. We all need to-"

"You don't understand!" Nathan's face twisted into a painful expression of pure, undiluted hatred, his dark chocolate eyes meeting Steve's for the first time. "You didn't have someone who was close to you, someone who you would give your life for! Echo lost her freaking other half, and you're already telling us to get over it like it's no big deal?! It doesn't even compute with you, Steve! Don't you care at all?" His fingers balled into fists, trembling with repressed rage. Steve cautiously backed away; Nathan looked ready to murder the nearest thing to him, regardless of who got in his way. Sweat beaded his forehead, hands reaching instinctively for a sword that wasn't there. He had the look of a man too far gone, too corrupted by grief to be able to think rationally. Maybe he was.

Dangerous. That's what the psychiatrists had labeled him as. Nathan had been forbidden to carry a sword in case he broke down in the street again, as he had done the day after… The day after that night. No one had been injured, but many had called for him to be forcefully sent away after he started to threaten passers-by, grinning maniacally and brandishing his enchanted diamond blade.

Dangerous.

The survivors had all tried to cope in their own way. Echo had cried all the time, grieving for Daxx; Nathan had become angry, on edge and unbalanced; Notch had retreated to his private chambers, very rarely venturing out into the public, and Steve had taken it upon himself to try and restore order. He hardly ever slept now, too involved in fixing up the town, or comforting the others and trying - in his own clumsy way - to reassure them that better times were ahead.

"I- I do care, Nathan. I know it seems like I don't, but… This is just my way of getting by. I don't think. It's probably not healthy to bottle up my emotions like this, but I can't face letting them out now. Not yet."

Upon hearing Steve's soft words, Nathan's face relaxed back into it's usual slack, blank look. He eased himself up onto the low cobblestone cemetery wall that Steve and Echo were perched on, and sighed slowly.

"I need to get out of here."

Echo understood how Nathan felt. There was nothing left here for them, no friends, no family, only memories and awful, awful reminders. Nothing was tying them to this fateful village. They could leave, start over, and gradually the memories would fade.

Echo focussed on Steve, peeking through her thick curtain of hair. He was contemplating the same thing, she could tell. No one left the village without asking for Notch's blessing first though, but would the powerful man really be able to provide them with one in the state he was in? It was worth a try though. Anything was better than staying.

"Maybe we should have a talk with Notch. If anything, we could at least get his opinion on leaving."

Nathan nodded in agreement, glancing over at Steve, who was still caught up in silent contemplation. Eventually, the Herobrine lookalike inclined his head as well, sliding lithely off the wall to land on his feet.

"Let's go."

Notch's living quarters were a little outside the village; while the town houses were mainly comprised of wooden planks and cobblestone, his building was comprised of large, dark, reddish bricks of unknown origin. Quartz and lapis blocks adorned the exterior, a blatant display of wealth that Notch had always secretly hated. Thus, his private sleeping quarters were plain and sparsely-furnished, which in the townspeople's opinion, was unbecoming of a man of his status. Notch didn't give a damn about what others thought of him, though.

Steve was pleased to see the villagers working busily, still repairing the buildings damaged by the attack. He nodded to those he was familiar with, receiving a polite smile or quiet hello back. They never met his eyes though, as word had got out that it was Steve who had done it.

It was Steve who had planted the sword through Herobrine's chest.

The villagers never met his eyes.

_I suppose it's just another reason for me to leave,_ Steve mused. _I make people uncomfortable; better to head out to someplace where people don't know me. Someplace where I can start again._

The three friends didn't say a word as they approached Notch's dwelling, but the tension was clear on their faces. Echo, for one, had never even travelled to the next biome over, let alone set out on a journey this far.

"I see it. Notch's house is just up ahea-"

Then there was the explosion.

* * *

**Ha. Ha ha. Ha ha ha ha! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! I'm SO MEAN!**


	2. Cracks are Showing

**I couldn't resist updating this before "Buried" as I am so excited; that's why my update order is a little messed up. I did have something planned for this chapter, but the word count got a little out of hand, so I'm saving it! Sorry!**

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**Cracks are Showing**

* * *

"_Brother!" Notch, face slicked with sweat, bolted straight up in bed, hands clutching the sheets in distress. It was pitch black outside, his sleeping quarters shrouded in gloom. As his eyes adjusted, Notch made out a figure reclining in the large leather chair by the door to his room. A figure dressed in a cyan shirt and blue jeans that seemed to hans loosely of his malnourished frame. The man appeared to be asleep, worn out and exhausted, tension clear in the slant of his shoulders and the thick bags under his eyes._

"_Steve?" The name elicited a reaction from the intruder, causing him to stir slightly and shift his position, but his eyes remained firmly closed._

"_Steve?" Notch repeated, outraged at the Minecraftian's reluctance to listen. "What are you doing here? These are my private quarters!"_

"_My dear Notch," The all-too-familiar voice rang out clearly across the room as the figure finally opened his eyes, revealing blank, sickening orbs of pure white._

"_Is that any way to address your brother?" Herobrine, grinning, curled one hand into a tight fist, intense red light shining through and outlining his knuckles._

"_Brother, what is that? What are you-"_

"_I know something you don't about our power, Notch."_

"_And… And what is that?" The bald man took an unconscious step backwards, black eyes flashing in alarm._

"_You see, when I was imprisoned in the Nether, I had little else to do but experiment. There are many things I can do, many things I know, and one of those things is that my power is like a river blocked by a dam. I can let it out gradually, or I can wait a couple of weeks - say, while pretending to be dead - and let the energy build up. Even I can't hold that much raw power in forever, though; the dam will burst, and all the energy contained within will be let out at once." A bead of sweat ran down Herobrine's temple as the glow he held intensified, brighter than his eyes, so bright it caused Notch physical pain to even glimpse it._

"_Brine, think about what you're doing! You could kill us both!"_

"_Oh, I will be fine. You should start worrying about yourself, big brother."_

_Notch's eyes widened in horror, and he turned to run-_

_Then the whole world went white._

_..._

Not much was left. The blast had ripped through cobblestone and timber alike, shredding houses and streets apart as if they were nothing. It had been centred inside Notch's private chambers, a large, concentrated eruption of dense matter. Steve and his companions had been effortlessly blown off their feet; momentarily dazed by the sheer destructive force of the shockwave that had hit them. Thankfully, the trio had been far enough away, or they wouldn't have had the slightest chance of surviving.

Notch had been at the centre of the blast.

"Steve! Are you OK?!" Echo's voice, muffled and distorted, filtered through to Steve's shaken brain. He cracked one eye open, wincing at a splitting headache that blossomed at his temple, and squinted up at the blonde who knelt over him.

"I- I'm good." Groaning slightly, Steve stood on shaky legs, staring aghast at the chaotic scene playing out before him. "Where's Nathan?"

"He ran towards Notch's house before I could stop him." She looked down in shame and worry, as if it was purely her fault that Nathan had blindly run into danger. Steve couldn't find the strength to console her though, so simply drew his sword and started trudging towards the explosion's epicentre.

"Hey! Don't just… Remember last time you walked into a situation unprepared? You nearly got killed, dammit! Wait up!" Echo paced after him, limping slightly and trying to avoid looking at the destruction spread across the streets.

"Steve, c'mon!" Some of the debris must have hit her ankle; it was swollen up and throbbing madly in the heat, preventing her from catching up with the brown-haired man threading his way through the chaos.

_Steve…_

_Don't do anything stupid…_

…

Parkour. He hated it. Every time some stupid kid held a tournament in the woods by the village, he would always pretend to be busy, or ill. Zak had forced him to attend a couple of times, and he's never even manage to complete the first jump.

Nevertheless, parkour is what Steve found himself doing.

The door had been completely blocked by misplaced blocks thrown up in the blast, the only possible means of entry bring a slender second-story window that lead into Notch's sleeping quarters. He faltered for a moment, deciding on the best way up; if he was careful, the blocks could act like a staircase, albeit one rickety and prone to collapse.

_You can do this._

He clenched his fists, grit his teeth, leapt at the side of the first block, and promptly fell on his face.

"Notch dammit!" Parkour was such a stupid sport! What the teens these days liked about it, he's never know.

And now he sounded like a grumpy old man. Great.

Zek had loved it, though. Always building courses, hosting tournaments, and challenging other residents, that kid. He had tried to teach the art to Steve, too, but the blue-eyed man had failed spectacularly.

"_You're hopeless! Two left feet! How can't you make that?"_

"_Hey, gimme a break, I don't practice damn near every day like you do."_

"_Still, it's a two-block jump! A kid could cross it!"_

"_Shut up!"_

Steve frowned at the memory, a frown that was tinged with sadness at the thought of his friend. Alive. Happy.

_What right did Herobrine have to take his life?_

None of that mattered; he'd had his revenge. Herobrine was dead. Notch was… possibly dead too, now, although there was no telling what that man could withstand. Nathan had run off into the unknown, and he'd left Echo in the dust following him. Steve grunted in frustration and hauled himself up another block, scraping his already raw palms in the process.

"Nathan! Where are you?" He took off his shredded jacket and wrapped it round his fist, smashing a hole in the ornate stained-glass window. Even with the protection, a jagged shard of glass perforated the material and sliced open the back of his hand. It was only afterwards that Steve realised Nathan had gone the same way as he had, and that the next window along was already broken.

"I hate my life."

Getting through the window turned out to be more trouble than expected, but soon Steve had clambered over the splintered wooden window frame to land (relatively) unharmed in Notch's bedroom. Nothing moved in the gloom, but he made out a single set of footprints in the dust, leading deeper into the bowels of the old building.

"I bet this house isn't structurally sound anymore. Hell, I'm surprised it hasn't fallen down already…" A mass of timber somewhere below him creaked and shifted prompting the Minecraftian to speed up his pace a little.

_Nathan… You're not thinking straight. Where are you?_

…

"Come and fight me, you bastard!" He didn't even have a sword; _they_ had taken it away from him. It didn't matter though. Not anymore.

Nathan ground his teeth in frustration, stepping smartly back to avoid a beam that broke loose and fell from the ceiling. His hands shook uncontrollably, as he had not been taking the medicine the "doctors" had given him.

_I don't need it. There's nothing wrong with me._

A slight noise emanated from the darkest corner of the room. Without even thinking, Nathan grasped the wooden beam at his feet, heedless of the sharp splinters tearing welts in his palms, and charged at the vaguely human form concealed by the shadows. His face twisted up in pure, undiluted rage, and he roared - a sound more animal than man tearing itself from his lips.

"_FIGHT ME!"_

Without any effort at all, the ex-guard hefted the beam up over his head, preparing himself to bring it crashing down on-

"Nathan, stop!" A slender hand shot out to ward off the assault, a hand with a long, fresh slash across the back. Such was the strength of Nathan's swing, though, that Steve did not quite manage to halt its progress, so the blunt projectile struck him a glancing blow to the side of the head.

"Agh! It's me! Steve!" The red mist cleared - Nathan, no longer in the grips of his terrifying, uncontrollable fury, dropped the beam in shock. The charred wood, now forgotten, tore more furrows in his palms as it clattered to the floor.

_My hands…_

_Why are they bleeding?_

_Why is Steve holding his head?_

_Did I do that?_

_Did I…?_

"Steve… Did I just…?"

"You gotta be more freaking careful! You could've killed me!" The cerulean-eyed man glared down at Nathan, the warrior's own eyes wide in fright. It didn't look like Nathan understood what was going on; he hadn't been able to remember anything after his last episode, so why would this time be any different?

"Did I hit you?"

"Yes, but forget it. It's not your fault."

"I'm so sorr-"

"I said forget it! Now go be useful and find some damn torches."

For the first time, Nathan noticed how dark it was inside - all the torches had been destroyed by the mysterious blast, so the only illumination stemmed from the still-smouldering fires dotted around the building. Steve didn't dare breathe until his friend had disappeared around the corner, as he didn't want to do anything to provoke the man in his unstable state.

_What do I do with him? We can't leave him unattended any more. Hell, he didn't even have his sword and he almost gave me a concussion._

Steve could actually see fine by the light of the fires alone, and the weak sunlight filtering in through the windows. Maybe it was cowardly, but Nathan wasn't exactly reliable. As long as Nathan was still in earshot, he'd be safe, and Steve would be free to look for Notch. Maybe.

_He'll be fine. I don't think there's anything left in here that could hurt him now._

How wrong he was.

* * *

**Dun dun dun! I'd like to hear in the comments about what you think is going to happen! Closest person gets a mention on my profile!**

**(Hint - the next chapter is called "Get Ahead In Life")**


	3. Get Ahead in Life

**Well, here it is! (Sort of) on time, too!**

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**Get Ahead In Life**

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"Go be useful. Find come torches. Go be useful. Find come torches…" The ex-warrior repeated the simple statements like a mantra as he scoured the dilapidated shell of the once-grand building. The only source of light he had managed to find so far, however, was the weak natural illumination that filtered down through the exposed timber beams.

_Go be useful. Find some torches. _That was what Steve had said. And so that's what Nathan would go and do.

Simply trekking round the structure's interior was hard from him. He jumped at every slight sound, tensed at every shift in the darkness. Periodically, his hand would bush the spot where his sword had, until recently, rested.

_Until they took it away._

Nathan did not understand that; if the doctors truly wanted to look after him, then why did they take the one thing that would keep him safe? It was not like Steve could help much, after all. Not with that large bruise on the side of his head.

_I wonder how he got that…_

It wasn't important. He probably just hit a low beam or something.

There were no torches left intact after the blast - the shockwave had knocked them all clean off the walls, and snuffed the weak flickering flames out. So where was he going to find a light for Steve?

_Wait. What is that…?_

Two bright pinpricks in the dusk, illuminating the elegant motes of dust disturbed by Nathan's clumsy tread. They weren't torches, but that didn't matter; he had finally found a source of light to take back. Quickly, he glanced round the shattered remains of the grand hall he had found himself inside, then, reassured that there were no threats nearby, stepped towards the light.

If Nathan had been a little more rational, he would have realised that the ominous incandescence was no normal light.

…

"Steve! Where are you?" The high-pitched, feminine call echoed throughout the cavernous, once-grand rooms of Notch's house, and Steve winced as it grated against his eardrums.

"I'm in here!" The man replied, picking out the slight sound of Echo's footsteps among the obnoxious crackling of the fires. "Have you got any torches?"

"Yeah, I got a couple," A pale figure emerged from the doorway, hair wild, clothes torn, shaking where she stood. Echo had a torch burning in each hand, so wordlessly handed one to Steve when she reached him. "Have you found anyone yet? Where's Nathan?"

"I- I sent him off to look for light. He's getting worse, Echo. Didn't even recognise me a minute ago."

His companion bit her lip in worry. "That's bad." Her voice was hushed; Nathan could still be in earshot. "Can we trust him?"

It took Steve a long time to answer. Finally - "I don't know."

The pair took to aimlessly roaming the vast network of hallways and corridors, searching for even the slightest sign of life. Nothing was said, but they both had the same question on their minds.

_Could Notch have survived this?_

"Where do you reckon he would have been when whatever the Nether went off in here did?"

"Maybe his sleeping quarters, or the living room; Notch barely ventures out anywhere else nowadays."

It was the best suggestion they had, so, within a couple of minutes, the heavy, charred oak door to the bedroom was within sight. The flames had licked across it's surface, leaving thick fingers of ash that glistened maleficently in the torchlight. It seemed like a bad omen, but there was turning back.

Not now.

Steve reached out a shaking hand, and eased the door open, revealing what would once have been Notch's grand bedroom. It was now in a state of extreme disarray; the blast looked to have been centered somewhere in the room. There was no furniture left, only small, jagged splinters of wood scattered across the floor and even embedded in the walls. The windows had been obliterated, the glass blown clean out of the frame and hurled to the ground far below.

And there was a body on the floor.

"Notch!" Echo tossed her torch aside and rolled the crumpled heap over, recoiling at the sight of his mangled, bloodied face. One side of his head was mottled with deep lacerations, the eye swollen and closed. Purplish bruising covered his face and neck, the result of a multitude of tiny impacts from flying debris. A small trickle of blood leaked from the side of his mouth, the weak light making it glisten weakly.

But he was still alive.

"Stay here with him," Steve commanded, "I'll go get help." He turned to leave, face tight, trying not to display his horror at the sight before him.

_Stay strong._

"Steve, wait! What do I do?" Echo's pleading eyes gazed up at him, face pallid from the grisly weight in her arms.

"Just don't let him die, OK?" Before he could have any second thoughts, the cerulean-eyed man strode out the door.

He entered the main hall-

-And walked straight into trouble.

…

"Help! Help me!"

I grinned down at the struggling figure pinned beneath my heavy boots, helpless as a pathetic newborn. He didn't even have a sword with him.

"You won't do any good screaming," Wickedly, I stepped backwards, giving him room to sit up, then aimed a vicious kick at his head.

"Steve, help!" His lip had split open from the force of my blow, and I watched the crimson liquid spill down his chin and on to his shirt. It was such a delightful sight.

Especially after what the warrior had done to me.

"Steve!"

That's right - there was another human around, I could sense his presence. He had discovered my brother's body, and had been going to get help. Luckily, the mortal's cries had diverted his attention; I would be able to have some fun with him.

That damn doppelganger who caused me so much pain.

"Nathan! I'm here!" Steve finally appeared from around the corner, eyes widening in fright as he took in the horrifying sight before him.

"You! I… I killed you! You're dead!" I liked the way his body quivered as he shouted at me. It was a sure sign that he hadn't forgotten what I was capable of. What I was able to do to him.

"You really thought you had killed me, Steve? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint." The voice that spewed from my mouth was like cracked ice, overlayed with a powerful bass timbre that made him visibly shrink in terror.

"I am Herobrine. And I cannot die."

…

There was nothing Steve could do. His sword would be useless against the ghastly being before him. There was nothing he could do but watch as Herobrine slammed his foot down on Nathan's chest - forcing a spray of blood from his mouth - and placed the tip of his sword upon the warrior's throat. Nathan started begging, no trace of dignity left in the face of death; repeating the same words over and over as if they could somehow protect him.

"Not like this! Not like this! Not like this!"

Steve could stand it anymore. He charged, but a simple glance, a simple nod of Herobrine's uninterested head sent him flying back against the wall.

_He didn't even have to touch me…_

"Why are you doing this? Why would you-"

"Why do you think I am doing this?" The immortal hissed. "You are as bad as 'him'! You betrayed me, all of you, framed me and forced me into exile when you knew full well that I had done nothing wrong! You all knew that- that I did not kill her!"

"Yes, what we did was wrong," Steve winced as the unseen pressure forced him hard up against the cold stone wall, "But you had your revenge! All those people you killed - when will it end? Will you just slaughter and slaughter until no one is left, unable to satisfy your endless need for retribution? Or will you stop this madness now?"

Herobrine's blank eyes dimmed as he appraised the lookalike pinned to the partition. He glanced down at the bloodied, panicked man beneath his feet, stared at the quartz-and-obsidian sword in his grasp.

Then his eyes began to glow brightly.

"You see, Steve," Herobrine's malevolent voice was soft, barely audible amongst the ominous crackle of still-burning fires.

"This is the only way to get ahead in life."

And he severed Nathan's head with one powerful swing.

* * *

**Sorry, Nathan! You had to go! Well, he was insane already, right?**

**...Right?**


End file.
